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National Galleries of Scotland on Flickr

“The key goals of The Commons on Flickr are to firstly show you hidden treasures in the world’s public photography archives, and secondly to show how your input and knowledge can help make these collections even richer” – The Commons statement.

Since its inception on January 16th, 2008, The Commons were joined by such international art depositories as Brooklyn Museum, The Library of Congress, National Media Museum, and others. The idea was, to quote Flickr again,

“1. To increase access to publicly-held photography collections, and

2. To provide a way for the general public to contribute information and knowledge”.

National Galleries of Scotland has become the latest art depository to join The Commons – and with some truly impressive and rare photographs. I chose ‘Queen Victoria on ‘Fyvie’ with John Brown at Balmoral’ because apparently there still abounds speculation about the nature and the actual fact of their close companionship. As can be seen, though, the fact is not to be doubted – as neither is the nature: it is hard to believe that this deeply mournful lady would let another man be as close to her as her late husband was.

There are many early photographic prints made in different parts of the world. An 1858 photo of the Egyptian pyramids and the Sphinx, then still half-buried in the sand. An 1852 photo of the portico of the Amiens Cathedral in France. Several Italian prints, one showing an angle of the Ducal Palace’s portico in Venice. Robert Louis Stevenson’s 1885 portrait. And Greyfriars Bobby, famed for his exceptional devotion to his master.

This collection which we undoutebly will see growing, as well as augmented by collections from the friendly institutions, offers a unique insight into 19th c. Scotland, its great men, its towns, and landscape. The photos you are to see are all the more precious because they would still be among the earliest photographic images. In a flash, you can find yourself in the heart of the country that gave the world Byron, Burns, Scott, Stevenson, among others. A great initiative from Flickr, and a fantastic response from all participating institutions and Flickr members.

Michel Legrand in Manchester – Announcement

I am pleased to confirm that I am going to the February concert of this multi-award winning French composer, and if you are Manchester-based you can book your tickets directly from Bridgewater Hall. The dates for Michel Legrand’s UK February 2009 tour are, as follows:

1 Feb – National Concert Hall, Dublin – 00353 [0] 1417 0000
2 Feb – Symphony Hall, Birmingham – 0121 780 3333
3 Feb – The Bridgewater Hall, Manchester – 0161 907 9000
5 Feb – De Montfort Hall, Leicester – 0116 233 3111
8 Feb – St Davids Hall, Cardiff – 029 2087 8444
9 Feb – Royal & Derngate, Northants – 01604 624811
12-14 Feb – Shaw Theatre, London – 0871 594 3123
17 Feb – Opera House, Buxton – 0845 127 2190
18 Feb – The Sage, Gateshead – 0191 443 4661
22 Feb – The Anvil, Basingstoke – 01256 844244

Michel Legrand (I have no idea why The Bridgewater Hall spelt his name as Le Grand, although I can see an interesting twist to this: Michel Legrand – Michel Le Grand – Michel The Great – so far so true…) was born in March 1932 in Paris, graduated with top grades as both a composer and a pianist, and went to win 3 Oscars (out of 13 nominations), 5 Grammys, and two Palmes d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival. Accompanying Mr Legrand (his unofficial site) on his UK Tour is Alison Moyet. I will surely tell you more about his concert, but for now – a Last.fm profile for Mr Legrand and a videomontage with the music Legrand composed for The Thomas Crown’s Affair (1968). Windmills of Your Mind was Legrand’s Oscar-winning song for that year. Another of his Oscar hat-trick – Yentl (1983) – should have all Barbra Streisand fans lifting up their heads. And it was Legrand, too, who wrote the score for a James Bond film, Never Say Never Again (1983) and Alain Delon’s The Swimming Pool (1969). In short, this is a must event for all music lovers.

 

Alfred Schnittke – Minnesang

Alfred Schnittke‘s Minnesang is close to my heart for several reasons. It is a sublime piece of music; it was composed in 1980-1981, so it is nearly the same age as me; and it was inspired by German medieval poetry, known as Minnesang. I have already written previously about one of the leading Minnesingers, Walther von der Vogelweide (c.1170-1230), in connection with the San Gimigniano frescoes. I thought, however, I’d point to several websites about him that may be interesting to any German or German-speaking/reading readers and visitors.

To start off, there is what seems to be a well-written page on German Wikipedia with a comprehensive list of links to some of the places I am about to point you to. Freie Universität Berlin offers a collection of online resources, including bibliographies and theses. Among the latter, these two look like the ones to start with: a referat by Stephan M. Rother that looks at the life and work of von der Vogelweide who, as quite a few of his kind, changed his patrons several times; and a work by Jens Hildebrand about von der Vogelweide and the society of his time (Walther von der Vogelweide und die Gesellschaft seiner Zeit). I haven’t yet read either work myself, so I’ll share my impressions once I did, but if you’re already familiar with any of these works, please feel free to let us know your thoughts.

Next, if you are feeling adventurous and want to try your hand, eyes and mind at medieval palaeography, then here is the place to practise: Projekt Gutenberg.de has a few images of a rather neat medieval hand. You can open a poem’s text in a new browser window and see how far you can get. See also if you can unfathom some of the medeival shorthand rules (one of the tips: when you see a line above a vowel, this means that the vowel is followed by ‘n’). If palaeography sounds like a tough exercise, then the same resource has got a collection of von der Vogelweide poetry, edited by Richard Zoozmann. And, of course, there is the poet’s biography, with a well-known image of his.

Speaking of von der Vogelweide’s iconography: his best-known miniature portrait is filed in the Codex Manesse (dated by 1300), and the wonderful thing is that you can consult the full Codex online. It is an amazing collection of miniature images of many a German historical figure, and I will definitely take time in another post to walk you through some of the personalities. On the same German Wikipedia page I mentioned above there is a photo of his tomb, and on Flickr one of the visitors to Bolzano (Bozen) photographed the monument to Walther.

Bibliotheca Augustana offers a biography and a full list of works (although not all are actually on the site). You may want to look at Mädchenlieder (The Girls’ Songs, composed about 1205) that include one of von der Vogelweide’s best-known poems, Under der linden (Under the linden tree).

The English-speaking readers and history and literature lovers are still welcome to consult Graeme Dunphy’s translations of von der Vogelweide’s poetry, as well as the English Wikipedia page. I shall see if I can bring you some more English translations of the works by one of the best medieval German poets (certainly one of the most prolific). What is interesting – and if you read the poems that Dunphy translated this will be very obvious – is that von der Vogelweide lived quite literally from pen to mouth, having changed several patrons in his lifetime. His love poetry, on the other hand, carries a spell of romantic gloom, yet quite popular at the time. The ideal of courteous, knightly love for the Belle Dame would often not permit a hero to rest blissfully by the side of his beloved lady. Either he’d be required to leave her behind and join the Crusade, or else the perspective of ruining her status (as well as of being discovered and mutilated (at the very least) by her husband or relatives) would force him to keep a distance. The latter found its manifestation in the fact that these knight-poets would only compose a song; the performance fell on the shoulders of their minstrels.

Back to Schnittke: Walther von der Vogelweide wouldn’t be the only source of inspiration to this composer. There could be – and probably were – at least another 11 medieval German poets who form the group of 12 leading Minnesingers. Of the vast repertoire of the German Minnesang poetry Schnittke had taken some 20 songs, transforming the legacy of medieval culture into his own distinct work for 52 voices. To read more about the genre (which had its equivalents in Northern and Southern France), head to Minnesang Wiki. If you choose to listen to Schnittke’s canon (which is 15 mins. long), make sure to bear until the extract at 10:40-11:00 mins: for me, this is the most sublime moment in the entire work. And if you are searching for this work on a CD, this may be the place to go: Alfred Schnittke: Minnesang; Choir Concerto.

‘Favourite’ Artist or ‘Preferred’ Artist?

A short note about Alexander Pushkin as a favourite artist.

2009 is the 210-th anniversary of Alexander Pushkin‘s birthday. Ten years ago, therefore, Russia and the Russian-speaking world celebrated 200 years since this genuine poet’s birth in 1799. The news reports showed people in the streets being asked to read an extract from any of Pushkin’s poems, there were a plenty of films and TV and radio specials… and when they asked children “who is your favourite poet?” the kids would routinely reply: “Alexander Pushkin“. The kids were some 5-7 year old, and it was then that it struck me: what was the point of that question?

The ‘problem’ with Pushkin is that he is “the sun of the Russian poetry” and simply the best known and much loved Russian poet. Children encounter his verses at the nursery and continue reading his poems and later on, at high school – prose and plays. His works have long been ransacked into citations, and very recently I saw one of my LiveJournal contacts paraphrasing one of Pushkin’s poems. In fact, I paraphrased one of his poems myself many years ago. In short, not only Pushkin is a popular poet, he is a people’s poet.

On the one hand, this proves that art belongs to people. On another hand, this means that people can actually appropriate art to the point that the true legacy or value thereof no longer matters. The downside of the “Pushkin is everything to us” phenomenon is that other poets even posthumously find themselves in his shadow. So, when you ask a child or an adult who their favourite poet is, and they respond ‘Pushkin‘, this tells us nothing about their artistic taste, nor even about the realistic appreciation of Pushkin’s legacy in today’s society. Because his is the household name, he is always a ‘favourite‘. Not to have him as a favourite would be an insult to culture: very much the same as if you said that you didn’t give a damn about Raphael or Mozart.

Favourite vs. Preferred

Even before that pivotal moment in 1999 I was careful about singling out a ‘favourite‘ artist, poet or writer. I have been ever more careful since, and then in 2008 I read the following statement from Manuel Alvarez Bravo:

‘Favorite’ is a word I can’t stand. Everybody says it, but I can’t stand it. I can’t stand it because it is an error of the language. It is a tremendous deprivation of the language. I think one should say ‘preferred’ instead of ‘favorite’. If I am looking at an El Greco, Picasso doesn’t matter to me. If I am looking at a painting of Clemente Orozco or at an engraving of Rembrandt – at that moment I prefer them to all others. And none of this has to do with that word ‘favorite’. Preference is the instantaneous choosing of something that attracts my seeing or hearing. And this phenomenon of instantaneous choosing is exactly the same thing that happens when I am taking photographs” (Manuel Alvarez Bravo: Photographs and Memories (Aperture)).

I thought a lot about this paragraph. In it Alvarez Bravo pins down the difference in languages: the Romanic languages use ‘preferito‘ (Italian), ‘préferé‘ (French) and ‘preferido‘ (Spanish) to designate what is called ‘favourite‘ (British English; ‘favorite‘ in American) or ‘liebling‘ (German) in Germanic languages. In Russian, we say ‘любимый‘ (‘loved’, similar to German). Interestingly, ‘favori‘ and ‘favorito‘ are used in French and Italian, respectively, in relation to sport, and Alvarez Bravo was no doubt aware of this semantic idiosyncrasy. Art is not a sport, however. It is not a ‘Picasso till I die‘ kind of thing. There is no Artist Premier League that could be organised into subdivisions, let alone rely on any valid inclusion criteria. Rather, if we hold that art serves both to unfathom the world and to create the world, then each and every artist that makes his or her way into our lives remains and exists there on equal terms with others, so that when we “look at an El Greco, Picasso doesn’t matter“.

Of course, if we look back at the use of the word ‘favourite‘ we will find the culture of favouritism blooming at the royal courts and in political circles. This culture has now found its new outlet in what can be called ‘social icon-making‘ and often unveils itself in the world of style and fashion where there are ‘style icons‘ and ‘fashion icons‘. The reverse of this medal, however, is ‘social iconoclasm‘. Both are the products of either a blind following of a trend (think of religious bigotry), or an equally blind passion or an affected habit with which we find ourselves supporting football teams, e.g. The latter point is also supported by the fact that both in German and in Russian the equivalent to ‘favourite‘ originates from the word ‘love‘. Indeed, when we speak of ‘love‘ we assume that there is only one object of our affection. It also makes sense to use it in relation to art because we often consider art to be an outlet for our emotions.

Yet in art there can be no singular object of affection; there will inevitably be a few objects or artists that ignite our emotions (and mind, too) differently and for different reasons. One can see why Alvarez Bravo thought that ‘favorite‘ in application to art is a deprivation of the language. Additionally, since ‘favourite‘ is close to ‘loved‘ but is also used in an idiom like ‘to do a favour‘, to say ‘my favourite artist‘ is to have the artistic universe evolve around the figure of yourself as a selector of ‘favourites‘ who may then be knocked off the pedestal, should it be necessary. It makes the man as the builder of his artistic universe a tyrant rather than a Creator. It is impossible not to give a preference (sic) to one artist over another; likewise, it is impossible not to be more passionate about certain men-of-arts, without calling either a “favourite artist”. However, the beauty of art is that it allows you to be a polygamist without any hurt to your conscience.

Orthodox Christmas Wishes


In the spirit of my resolutions, I wish the very happy Orthodox Christmas to my Russian readers. As you might know, the Orthodox Christmas is celebrated on January 7th, and what is interesting this year is that many people in Russia are only going back to work on Monday, 12th of January.

I looked at how Christmas is celebrated in different countries, and in Bosnia they don’t punish children on the 5th of January (the site is in Russian): it is believed that a punished child will behave badly for the year to come. And last night they apparently had the first public Christmas celebration in Moscow. For this reason the Moscow tube didn’t close until 2am. This could also accommodate those citizens who went to a service at the church or the cathedral (there are 260 churches and cathedrals in Moscow). Today, 7th January, has also seen the Moscow Students’ Parade, for which purpose many Moscow streets were once again closed for traffic. Of course, the main feature of this Christmas on my memory is that there is no officially appointed Head of the Russian Orthodox Church at the moment, following the decease of the Patriarch Alexy II (you can also read the Orthodox Wiki about Alexei II or survey the official website of the Moscow Patriarchate of the Russian Orthodox Church).

And attached is another vintage postcard from my family album. You can say that it dates back to the early 20th c. The inscription in Russian says what is equivalent to the English ‘Merry Christmas’, but without ‘merry’ (S RozhdestvOm KhristOvym – literally ‘With Christmas‘).

Russian Christmas Eve In Candlelight


I have written previously that I love streetlights, and it is perhaps only natural that I like to sit in candlelight. I have been doing this very often recently when the dark nights descended on our city, and I could curl up on my sofa. This is the sight I see in front of me, when I am in one of those ‘curling-up’ moods.

In my ideal world, of course, I’d be seeing this kind of landscape through my window (below) or watch the Picturesfromafrozenworld, but I can be fairly content with just imagining this winter wonderland. As a matter of fact, I can see the weather information in my browser, and it’s just got warmer by 2 degrees in Manchester: from minus 5 it changed to minus 3. Back in Russia, though, this is Christmas Eve, which is why perhaps I am in need for some extra winter atmosphere.

Photo credits: Huffington Post and Il Filosofo blog.

Spreadsheet Art: How to Start Loving Excel (And Such Like)

You will love this video if, like myself, you have always thought that Excel is for those tricky calculations, with too many functions that some folks just love using to produce even trickier results. I say ‘Excel’, but I could say ‘spreadsheets’ to avoid being associated with Microsoft Office only. Especially because the video was produced by Google. Now, there is more to Excel than just those boring data-filled spreadsheets, and it begins to feel really excellent. I almost see myself being converted from a nearly anti-spreadsheet person to someone who would love to learn using spreadsheet in such creative way. Of course, I can’t draw (only copy), but then I can see myself creating some abstract art. 2009 can very well be the year when I may excel at Excel (or spreadsheets, to avoid a tautology) – and so can you.

Read Google tutorial on how to venture into spreadsheet art. If you get to produce something of your own, post a video reply to Google folks. And thanks a lot to Mike @ TheBusyBrain for sending the link via Twitter.

How To Protect Your Ideas From Being Stolen?


WebProNews is currently taking on Digg.com showcasing how a story submitted by an “ordinary mortal” is ignored by the majority, whilst exactly the same submission by one of the elite Diggers soars freely on the front page. Ironically, I have had a conversation with a Cheshire-based SEO agency just before Christmas, and they asked me if I knew (or could suggest) any ways of getting “dugg”. I said what I believed was the real picture: that 1) there are cliques that stand on guard of their authority and that 2) the process of “digging” is a pure chain reaction. This is confirmed by the majority of Digg users who aren’t satisfied with the service:
“The coalition of outcasts has primarily blamed two Digg.com features pretty standard on Internet social networks: the ability to form friends lists and “shout” to those friends about news stories a user wants promoted”.

Forming friends and sending “shouts” is precisely the ‘chain-reaction’ mechanisms. But is it only peculiar of Digg.com? Or does Digg.com represent the world at work: a cluster of mutually supportive coalitions that keep an individual user at a distance while also being keen on feeding off his/her ideas?

On this occasion, WebProNews refers to Digg.com as a failed democratic model; however, ironically, Digg.com may be that very democratic model – at its worst, of course. Alexis de Tocqueville, a French aristocrat who is reportedly still studied in the States for all things democratic, predicted in his treatise that a democratic regime can degrade into the tyranny of many – exactly what we see on Digg.

Yet again, is it only Digg that we should blame? What about campaigns pro or contra something on Facebook? What about the whole nature of Social Media whereby you share the content only to find out that someone else has appropriated it? The example that is discussed on WebProNews involving Digg.com may not be entirely relevant, but it does give a perspective to the problem.
So, how to protect your ideas from being stolen?

As I write this, I must admit: I do not know the answer. Two things come to mind, however. One is a comment I recently had on my article drawing on the interview I made with Dave McKean. Turns out that The Jim Hanson Company were very positive about the artwork of Tanya Doskova, a Canadian artist who worked at the Company’s studios in London for a period of time. You will get the gist of the problem as you read the comments. I said to Tanya what I felt was well relevant to me at times. As once an insider of a huge media corporation, I am confident that my inkling about the ‘preferential’ attitude to the native citizens is grounded. This is not to accuse anyone of something bad; but this is not deny that ‘foreign’ and ‘alien’ are synonyms, after all.

The second is a seminar at the London Book Fair 2007. One of the talks centred precisely on the possibility of copyrighting an idea. We looked at what then was the very popular case of Dan Brown vs. Michael Baigent and Richard Leigh. The answer wasn’t bringing a relief to anyone of us who is concerned about the issue: you cannot copyright an idea. Indeed, if we suppose that all things exist as ideas, then imagine, say, Dante being issued with a copyright on the idea of Love. Just because he composed The Divine Comedy, to be sure.

For my part, I have never really publicised my ideas, and as far as writing goes, I very rarely let anyone read the text before it is finished. I am sure not to publish the entire text online (except for short stories or those that were inspired by a contemporary art work), but only a selection because – forgive me my audacity which is supported by comments I receive about my work – I think I do have brilliant ideas that just doesn’t visit some people. But this is different with blogging where the whole idea is about publishing and publicising your content.

Now, ideas are beautiful in that they are in the ether: if one idea didn’t visit me, it may surely land in someone else’s head. If this happens ‘naturally’, i.e. I didn’t mention this idea in another’s presence (a blog post included), then I don’t have a problem. But when I do mention those ideas and then I see other people trumpeting exactly the same (and by the look of it, they didn’t quite trumpet this idea before my mention) and without crediting me, I do ask: what do I do? Especially if I am still going to act on the idea that I voiced?

To an extent, this is a problem of pre-eminence: who was the first to mention something? But even if you can survive not being credited as the original communicator of an idea, the question remains: when and how should you start throwing your idea around, to gain feedback or support? To get back to that example with Digg.com and to use it symbolically, when should you submit your content to Digg?

By the look of it, unless you’re among the top users, you shouldn’t submit it at all. Yet Digg is but one of the places that operates as a ‘network’, and you may not be a part of it even if you seem to be. What to do? Maybe to follow Zizek who said that today the criticised and ostracised Socialists should recognise their legacy precisely because it is theirs and should know their facts better and thus make their critics play on their, Socialist, terms. Ignore ‘Socialist’, and you’ll find a plenty of individuals and smaller groups that are trying to use the Internet to promote their causes against networks of other individuals and groups. However hard it is, self-belief and the ability to see through the polite facade of today’s relations may be the only things that can get you through any difficult times. And to quote my preferred Dali, ‘the difference between Surrealists and me is that I am a Surrealist‘.

The illustration is the courtesy of WebProNews.

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